Running the Race for Χριστος

Too late at night for me to be writing, considering I have been yawning for a good two hours now. (And, as we all found out from reading my 3:30 post, writing when I'm tired is an awful idea.) But I'm determined to write this. Please just deal with it. I'll do my best.

The running metaphor keeps popping up in my life. I like that I'm a runner because this metaphor makes sense to me. "What is this metaphor you speak of?" Behold, I shall tell you.

In 1 Corinthians 9:24, it says, "Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize."
More so, in Hebrews 12 it says, "Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith."

So, we as Christians are running some metaphorical race, trying to reach the prize. And since we are fixing our eyes on Jesus, it can be easily assumed that the prize at the end of the race is Christ.

Let me simplify this (more for myself than for my lovely, intelligent readers, I'm sure). Life is a race. We're all running. Someday we will die when we get to the end of the race. Some of us will get there sooner than others. Some of us will win. Most of us will lose. Some of us will have a perfect union with Jesus in Heaven... some of us will not.

So, how do we fix our eyes on the prize? By pursuing Jesus with our whole selves, by loving him and learning about him and talking to him and mimicking him. By running with perseverance and not giving up on him or ourselves.

So, now that that's established, here's one thing that's been on my mind regarding this topic:

A while ago, someone presented this metaphor to me in a little bit different light than I had heard growing up. We're all running, okay. Honestly, more than one of us is going to get the prize. More than one person is going to Heaven. So we're running alongside other Christians. All of us should be running as hard and as fast as we can toward Jesus. Sometimes other people probably pass us, sometimes we pass other people. That's okay. Someone else might be going the same pace as us but are about half a mile ahead of us. Then maybe, just maybe, there's someone right next to you. Same place, same pace. Congratulations, God just gave you someone very special that you can spend the rest of your life with. Hypothetically/metaphorically. That is to say, when you get to that mile marker in your life when you're ready for marriage, you look to the right and to the left and see who's there. If no one is, God is saying "Not right now, just keep running. Look straight at me." but if there is someone there... you have someone to run alongside for the remainder of the race, encouraging each other and pushing each other to keep going. That's how you can know who's the one. (So we're clear, when said person talked to me about this, they were trying to relay "how to find a spouse" more so than "how to run the race".)

Although I am sort of running this race solo right now, I know it won't last forever. Maybe I'll catch up to someone. Or maybe someone else will catch up to me. We'll see. But it doesn't matter. What matters is the prize. Keeping my eyes fixed on Christ.


To get a little more recent with my thoughts on the running metaphor, I went to the indoor track at my college to run my now-regular three-mile run on Saturday. Only to find that it was packed full of people. The track was covered with people in chairs watching a volleyball game or something. There were a few treadmills open, but, after now having ran (run?) on a treadmill a total of one time in my life and decidedly hating it, I did not opt for stationary running. However, it was a pretty nice day out, so I decided not to give up and be lazy, but to actually venture out into the great unknown and run outside.

Went back up to my room to change into slightly warmer clothes, take my key off my keychain to put in my pocket, and map out a 3-mile run online. I decided on a nice little loop-around that would take me through the rich neighborhood part of town so I could admire the big, pretty houses.

I was running, it was pleasant, with a breeze, and the sun was shining. Then when I started coming back, I was going against the wind. It would be that way for the next approximately mile and a half. Oh, it was hard, and only got harder. By the end of my run, I was in a lot of physical pain (due to exertion, nothing to be concerned about for those of you that are nursing majors and physical therapists and mothers), but I was so close to the end that I wouldn't let myself quit. I made it, and I praised God (as I usually do after a good run) that he blessed me enough that I can do that sort of thing beyond any power or motivation of my own. Then, as I walked back to campus (as I had ran past it in order to go a full three miles), I started thinking about this metaphor of running the race for Christ again.

I had always thought of it like "YEAH! Run the race for Christ! Woooo!" and it being like a thrilling, adrenaline-filled, victorious thing. And while I felt proud of myself after this particular run, I was also in pain as I caught my breath and reflected on how hard it had been to finish. It was nice to be outside, but by the end, I was not thinking about the nice weather, the sunshine, or even the fact that I was outside. I was thinking about my body's pain, and finishing. Yes, I was thinking about the end. My eyes were fixed on it, and I would keep going, whatever the physical toll.

Somehow my thoughts brought my back to the memory of some painful sin I have committed. Fortunately, it probably won't affect anyone but me (and my relationship with God), but it's something I still feel shame and grief about, despite the full knowledge that I'm forgiven. It's something I'll have to deal with internally for a long time, maybe even the rest of my life. I just made the rest of the race a little bit harder.

But I'm going to keep running.

Sin will come your way. Pain and hardship will come your way. Life will not always be a pleasant jog on a warm spring day. It will be exerting, exhausting, and the only thing you will want more than to quit will be to finish. No, maybe you won't even want to finish. (When I ran again on Monday, my body was feeling very lazy and lethargic and throughout my whole run, I was so tired that all I wanted was for my hip or knee to start hurting again so I had a valid excuse to stop running.) But you know what? Persevere. Keep running. Fix your eyes on the prize. Fix your eyes on Jesus. If you do this, then whatever life throws at you, you will get the ultimate prize.

And now for a bit of humor:

God bless.